


I could go all day wearing nothing but your kiss

by becka



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 07:37:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5120330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becka/pseuds/becka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry goes home with Nick after 1D's fifth London show of the OTRA tour. He doesn't leave in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I could go all day wearing nothing but your kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Lucy](http://psycholinguistic.tumblr.com/) for cheerleading this up to the last second. <33
> 
> Title from "Know Me Better" by Mabel, which was Annie Mac's track of the week during the week of the OTRA O2 shows.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. None of this happened, except the bit where Nick and Tina went to a 1D concert and Tina spent the night on Nick's sofa.

Harry fumbles awake in the dark to Nick’s alarm and the gentle press of Nick’s lips on his cheek. His head is fuzzy and his mouth is fuzzier, and his whole body aches with the knowledge that he hasn’t slept enough. They’d only stumbled in a couple of hours ago, and Nick had got Tina a blanket and settled her on the sofa before dragging Harry into his bedroom. They’d made no excuses, either of them; they hadn’t bothered to dissemble or outright lie the way they sometimes used to. Nick’s hands had been finding bits of Harry to grab all night, his fingers in the car, his belt loop in the queue for the toilet, his thigh under the table in a dark corner. Everything about the last twelve hours has said they’re done being careful.

But now Nick drapes the duvet over Harry’s bare bum, fingers trailing up Harry’s spine. “Tina’ll need the loo,” Nick says quietly. “Don’t want her to have too much scenery.”

Harry rolls onto his belly and buries his face in the pillow, everything smelling of Nick's shampoo with an undertone of dog as Nick's alarm goes off again. Nick groans. "Tina'll get up first, won't she?" Nick says quietly, nuzzling Harry's shoulder. "If she's not up, we can't be late."

"Sound logic," agrees Harry. He tilts his face so Nick can kiss him, his lips warm and dry. "Unless Pig's devoured her whole."

"Pig's not usually very hungry of a morning. I'm sure she's fine." He kisses Harry again, more deeply, and Harry turns his whole body into it this time, one hand settling on Nick's waist. He's half-hard in that just-woken way, and he nudges his hips forward until Nick slides one thigh between his. "You'd like to be devoured whole though, hey?"

"Yeah," Harry murmurs. 

Nick lets Harry grind against him for a minute before his third or possibly fourth alarm of the morning goes off. "If you keep that up, you'll be top story on Newsbeat this morning," he says, sitting up.

Harry sighs and flops onto his belly again, trying to ignore his dick altogether. "Can I stay here while you're at work?"

"Only if you get Pig to wee in the garden and not on the rug."

"Done," says Harry.

"You think it's that easy." Nick goes to the window, and Harry admires the long, bare line of his body, interrupted by black briefs. "If it's raining out, she won't go."

"If she wees on the rug, I'll clean it. I just don't want to get dressed."

"Naked popstar mopping up my dog's wee, there's an image." Harry stretches across the bed, arms and legs to the corners, dislodging the duvet. Nick's eyes follow him appreciatively. "You'll be alright here? There's nowt in except weird vegetables and protein powder, but I can bring you summat back. I know how you love the BBC canteen."

Harry isn't ready to think about food yet. He hums noncommittally. "We could have lunch, when you're back. Get something in?"

Nick's rummaging in a wardrobe. "Have you got things to do today?"

"Show tonight. You. That's all, really."

Nick bends to kiss the top of Harry's head as he goes past to the dresser. "We'll get something in. I'm going to check on Tina. If she wants to clean her teeth or owt, you just lie there and look platonic." Harry smiles into the pillow. He feels the very opposite of platonic, laid out naked in Nick's bed with a love bite purpling the inside of his thigh. But he pulls the duvet over himself, tucking it around his shoulders so anyone could imagine he was wearing a onesie underneath. Or a chastity belt.

Harry’s mostly asleep again when Tina comes through to use the bathroom and Pig wanders in to nose at the covers. She jumps up on the bed over Nick’s protests and settles herself in a snorting lump at Harry’s side. “Let her stay,” he murmurs. “Someone needs to keep me warm.”

Nick sighs and pets at Harry’s hair. “I’ve got a meeting after the show, but since everyone’s going to be a wreck after last night, I reckon it’ll be short. And then I’ll be back, and you can have me until whenever you need to go be a popstar again.”

Harry smiles into the pillow.

Nick kisses the top of his head before he leaves, and Harry wonders if Tina’s watching, what Nick’s face might look like if she is, if he’s bravely playing at calm. Harry, for his part, is pretending to be fast asleep with one hand on Pig’s ribcage, feeling her steady breaths. He listens to Nick and Tina scuffing up the steps to the street and wonders how it would be if this were his life every single morning, Nick’s bed and Nick’s dog and him settled in the middle of it waiting for Nick to come home to him. It isn’t a bad image.

They haven’t talked about what will happen on the Break yet because Harry still hears it with a capital letter every time, and it scares him out of making plans. He knows Nick would never wait for him, except that he has, incidentally, been available every time Harry’s phoned. For years. And that’s a lot to be just incidental.

Pig grunts and shifts under his lax hand, and Harry obligingly rubs at her belly until she grins and wriggles away. He steals Nick’s robe to step out into the back garden, sunrise hinting on the horizon, the back step cold beneath his bare feet. Pig runs a few circles of the patio before she picks a spot to wee, and then she follows him back inside easy as anything. There’s food and water in her bowls, and Harry goes back to bed without waiting to see if she’ll follow, curling up in a tight roll of duvet that leaves him one arm free to turn on Radio 1 on his phone. 

Nick’s into his first link by the time Pig comes to join him again, sniffing at the phone under Harry’s hand, ears perked at the sound of Nick’s voice. “That’s how I feel too,” Harry tells her. Nick’s talking about him, about the gig, sounding cheerful and exhausted, and Harry smiles into the pillow, feeling for a moment like the best kind of secret. He lets the new Vaccines song lull him back to sleep, and he dozes straight through to the entertainment news at 7.40, waking up to Pig’s head resting heavy on his hand as she snores. It’s like that the whole morning, snatches of songs filtering into his dreams, and every time he flinches awake he thinks, “Maybe I’ll get up and make tea,” but he doesn’t do it.

It’s just before ten when Harry finally rolls out of Nick’s bed, and it’s honestly only because Pig does it first. Harry follows her into the kitchen and checks her food bowl again before putting on the kettle for tea. Nick will be home soon, and Harry should at least pretend he’s made himself useful. He cleans his teeth while the kettle’s warming up and debates getting back into last night’s clothes. But Nick’s robe is silky and comfortable, and it smells of Nick’s shampoo and moisturizer. So Harry sips his tea at the dining room table and then sorts all the mail Nick’s piled at one end as well as straightening the magazines on the coffee table. There’s no washing up to do because they’d stumbled in too tired and giddy for even a nightcap, and he can’t bake anything with the assorted non-food in Nick’s kitchen.

At quarter after eleven, Nick strolls in with a carrier bag from Waitrose and sings out, “Morning, sunshine!” Pig launches herself off the sofa where she’d been lounging across Harry’s legs, tail wagging madly, and Nick reaches down to pat her head. “Yeah, you’re who I meant, aren’t you? Sunshine puppy?”

Harry hmphs, and Nick comes to kiss him sideways. “Bring me anything?”

“Got some veg and a bit of chicken. Thought we could make a fancy salad. Better than ordering something in anyway.”

Harry sits up straight, so Nick isn’t leant quite so far over the back of the sofa. “Why not order something in?”

“Well, you’re basically naked, for a start.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know that when you went to the supermarket.”

Nick lifts an eyebrow at him, and Harry ducks his head in a grin. He does like being naked with Nick, always has, if he’s honest. Nick’s appreciation is heartfelt as well as felt in other places, and Harry remembers thinking he could stand to be looked at like that every day, even before they slept together. 

“Salad it is then.” He trails a finger up the inside of Nick’s forearm. “And then maybe you could fuck me.”

“Oh,” says Nick, looking lost in the way he only gets when he talks about sex, as though he doesn’t know what to say on the subject if it isn’t a joke. “Well, I guess chicken salad pales a bit in comparison to that.”

“Need to eat though,” Harry points out reasonably. “Keep up our strength for anything else.” He’s been lazily thinking about it all morning, how long it’s been since he was properly fucked, how it will be doing the show tonight if he can still feel Nick inside him. 

Nick’s eyes trail down Harry’s body where the robe is slipping open, revealing more of his chest and thighs by the second. “Are you going to get dressed?” he asks.

Harry shrugs. “Only if you want me to. Otherwise it’s just easy access for after lunch.” He’s turning himself on a bit now, thinking about the possibilities. It’s so simple to lose himself, imagining sinking onto Nick’s cock, not even leaving the table, just lifting up the robe.

Nick reaches out to touch him, fingers skating down his chest, following the line of the open collar. “You’re not making it easy to think about lunch here, love.” He pinches one of Harry’s nipples, and Harry squirms a bit. There’s no way to hide the lift of his dick beneath the silk of the robe. He’s not fully hard by any means, but it wouldn’t take much to get him there. A stiff breeze, a single brush of Nick’s hand on his dick. Harry doesn’t need lunch.

“You could fuck me first,” he says. “And then again after?”

Nick’s hand shifts back up to cup his chin, thumb tracing along his jawline. “You’re ridiculous,” Nick says, but he’s smiling, and that’s nearly always a precursor to Harry getting exactly what he wants. He can practically see the wheels turning in Nick’s head.

“Not on the sofa,” Nick says finally. “And not in front of Pig’s young eyes. But if I happened to find you naked and arse up in my bed when I finish putting away the shopping, well.”

Harry scrambles off the sofa and down the hallway so fast that Pig thinks it’s a game to chase him. “I’m really sorry,” he tells her, rubbing her velvety snout as he blocks the bedroom door. “But this is just for people.”

The condoms and lube are in the same familiar spot they always are in Nick’s bedside table, and Harry isn’t sure what he would do if they ever weren’t. Whatever else changes, this is one of the things Harry knows about Nick’s house. Harry spreads himself out on the bed, stretching right down to his toes, and wonders whether arse up on the bed means he should finger himself too. But he wants Nick’s long fingers in him first thing, wants to stretch open around Nick’s knuckles and have Nick tell him what a good boy he is. Last night they hadn’t done much except kiss, mouths on any part of each other they can reach, tumbling into bed late and getting sleepier by the second, their bodies falling together easily until Harry needed a cooler piece of the bed to sleep in. This morning he wasn’t even able to complain about Nick leaving properly, let alone offer him anything like this. He breathes in the scent of Nick’s pillow and waits.

“What a sight,” says Nick from the doorway, then again, softer and more fond. Harry feels the bed dip as he sits down, and Nick’s thumb slides along the groove of his spine, right down into the crack of his arse. Harry’s stomach grumbles, and Nick pauses for a moment. “You’re sure you don’t want lunch first?”

“Want to be full of you first.” Harry folds his arms under his head and he can’t see the look on Nick’s face, but he can imagine it, the tender disbelief every time Harry says something even a little bit dirty. “Want you to come in me.”

Nick’s hand spreads over the bare curve of Harry’s arse. “Maybe not that, not without a condom.” He smacks Harry’s bum so lightly that it’s hardly even a smack, and it just makes Harry want a proper spanking, some more intense sensation where his skin is buzzing for more contact.

“With a condom’s fine,” he says into his own elbow, just as Nick presses a kiss at the base of his spine. It’s soft and unexpected, and Harry’s breath catches as Nick’s mouth follows a slow path up his back. Harry expected this time would be quick, that anything more involved would be saved for after lunch, but Nick’s just kissing up the back of his neck, making him shiver.

Nick tips Harry’s face up with a fingertip under his chin, guiding him into a proper kiss. “Are you already hard for me, love? Is that why you can’t stay still?”

“Yeah,” Harry replies. He rocks his hips into the bed to prove the point, even though he probably could keep still if he tried, or if Nick made him. “Want you.”

The cap on the lube flips open with a distinctive sound, and Nick doesn’t waste any more time before easing a cool, slick finger down the crack of Harry’s arse. He teases at Harry’s arsehole, and Harry moans, so ready to take him in. When Nick presses, just a little, at the give of Harry’s hole, Harry arches up, trying to coax him inside properly, trying to get what he needs. 

“Steady,” says Nick, as he slides his fingertip in, then pulls back to tease, and Harry feels undone by the delay. His breath is all tangled up and he wants Nick so much he’s trembling with it suddenly.

“So eager,” Nick says, pressing two fingers into Harry’s arsehole this time, the ache of the stretch lost in how much Harry wants exactly this. “I can’t believe I left you in my flat all morning to daydream about me fucking you. Except I can believe it because I spent all morning at my job wondering if that’s what you were doing. Bloody distraction, you are.”

“You didn’t sound distracted,” Harry says, working his hips back so Nick’s fingers press exactly how he wants them. “You sounded brilliant. You always do.”

Nick’s thumb presses into his taint, an extra flush of sensation working through Harry as Nick circles there. There’s a space here to say something serious, but they don’t. Harry knows Nick’s waiting for him to do it first, to ask for something Nick might be able to give him, but he can’t do it yet. So there’s just this extra beat before Nick starts fingerfucking him again, deep, solid strokes that are so much like what he does with his cock. Harry’s own cock is a burning line against the bed, already dribbling across his belly and Nick’s sheet.

“Please,” Harry says after a particularly good twist of Nick’s fingers. “I’m dying here.”

Nick huffs a laugh and then bends to kiss the side of Harry’s neck. His breath is warm against Harry’s ear, and Harry smiles so Nick can see it. “Overdramatic,” Nick tells him, but he slips his fingers out of Harry’s arse to grab the condom, and Harry doesn’t feel the heartfelt noise he lets out is overdramatic at all. “Up on your knees a bit, pet. Make it easier on us both.”

Harry scrambles to do as Nick asks, and Nick edges up behind him, palming at the cheeks of his arse as he lines himself up. Harry’s slick for him, open and ready, but that first blunt push makes his breath catch anyway, and he shivers right up his spine as Nick bottoms out inside him, filling him up just right. Nick’s big hands clutch at the juncture of Harry’s thigh and hip, holding him tight for a moment before he starts to work Harry open with steady thrusts. Harry’s so ready for it that he thinks he might come as soon as Nick begins fucking him, and he breathes through the tension winding tight in his whole body.

He arches back into Nick’s thrusts, can’t stop himself, chasing the pleasure but also wanting this to last, wanting Nick to fuck him into the afternoon. He’ll feel it tonight the way Nick’s plowing into him with purposeful strokes, and Nick must know that too, must know that Harry will be thinking of him when he’s not there tonight. He wanted Nick to come to more of the shows, to come to every show, but that’s not something you can ask someone who’s just your friend, even your friend who knows how to fuck you better than anyone else.

“Want me to come in you?” Nick whispers, leaning down into him, Nick’s chest flat to Harry’s back. Harry moans back to him, a yes in there somewhere he’s sure. His dick is twitching and spiting precome, and he wants Nick to touch it, but the words to ask are so far away. And then Nick’s hand slides down over his hip, finds his cock and wraps it in a tight cage of long fingers. “You first, sweetheart,” he says, mouthing at Harry’s shoulder, teeth digging in just a little, riding the thin line before a bruise because Nick knows how easily Harry’s skin marks but also how much he likes being bitten.

It tips Harry straight over the edge, come pulsing out of him, his arsehole clinging tight to Nick’s cock. It doesn’t take Nick long after that either, and Harry shuts his eyes as Nick clutches at him, fingers digging into Harry’s thighs. Maybe Harry will feel that tonight too.

He flattens himself into the wet spot as soon as Nick pulls out, and even Nick slapping a wet flannel on his bum isn’t enough to make him lift his head. He feels boneless and easy. “You could bring me lunch in bed,” Harry murmurs, as his stomach starts to grumble again.

“You’ve done enough damage to my bedclothes today,” says Nick. “You’ll eat at the table. Or there’ll be no afternoon delight for pudding before you go off to be a popstar again.”

Harry hums a few bars at him and blinks one eye open. Nick is smiling and still flushed, and Harry doesn’t want to think how few hours he has left to spend here. He’s doing so much counting down the time lately, living towards deadlines that mask the freefall they all know is coming. Maybe there will be a time he really can spend all day in Nick’s bed. But for now he makes his noodly limbs lever him up, kissing Nick’s cheek on the way to the en-suite. He’ll do what he can with the time he has.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here](http://realmenwearpuppypants.tumblr.com/). <3


End file.
